How Do I Love Her

25122009

On Christmas day, 25th December 2009, wifey asked me a simple question. How do I love her? In the normal days it wouldn’t be a problem for me to answer it. But that question strike me as lately she asked me quite frequent. Like what I have said wasn’t enough, like what I have done wasn’t sufficient to convince her of how I love her. Feels like she doubts my commitment. I have no idea how I would inform her. All I know is that I love her with my own way.

I love her by get rid of the trash without she ever ask after she cooks our meal.

By eating her cooks though sometimes it was burn out.

By taking public transportation in consequence me being late to the office so she could use the car for her comfort and safety.

By keeping the kitchen and bathroom free from cockroach, worm or even mice (she’s always freak out whenever she sees those animals). I clean the bathroom with my own hands to reassure the cleanliness is on her standard.

By letting her shop whatever she wants. Let me work harder so I can be sure she gets what she desires.

By always picking her up even midnight after she shed over a coffee with friends. And I do try to mingle with her friends.

By search out our neighborhood just to get her favorite drink -es cendol- in the hot noon day (which I actually prefer to sleep). Not just a usual es cendol, it has to be es cendol made from rice not flavor with jack fruit sauce.

By giving her permission eating durian, salak, jack fruit and all those strong smell food in the house though actually I almost get fainted every time she has them at home.

By comforting her every time she gets nightmare and start talking on her sleep.

By listening to her stories about what she has just through on that day nevertheless I am as tired as a flat tire after working.

By helping her with all the things above cupboard. She’s so petite; she can’t reach out high shelves without help.

By letting her play with that stupid pet game which take some of our quality time. Even bought her private internet connection so she doesn’t need to go to the internet café.

By giving her “me time” with her blog and novels.

And so many other bys…

I might not love her with red roses as her favorite flower; it’s just not my style. But I know I l do love her that’s why I marry her.